Tuesday, August 04, 2009

NOW THIS IS DREAMING

10 comments:

On Saturday afternoon I got into bed fully dressed and fell asleep listening to Radio National. I awoke hearing the last few bars of Purcell: funereal, melancholy, enormously sad; I thought I'd died, really.

Robbert, you should be more careful. I'd think I was dead too if I woke up in bed with all my clothes on. Keep a hatpin beside the bed and stab yourself if you feel like that again. Blogdom can't afford to lose commenters.

River, you must visit that website. I wandered around it for ages and you can just save the image to your pictures, they still move and sparkle. I think it's going to be my quiet space.

Fleetwood, dearest ditchdigger, you've surfaced. I hope it was nothing I said while you were missing. I didn't have candles, you the only blowhard with enough blow to extinguish 75 of them. I have so missed insulting you.I can't insult the poet, he is much too sensitive.

Antikva, never mind the 13, was it nice inside and away from the cemetary? A male under a waterfall with no clothes sounds perfectly fine to me.